


Organized Chaos

by bentnotbroken1



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Angst, Banter, Canon Divergence, Community: dramionedrabble, Dramione Drabbles, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Office Sex, One-Shots, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Past Romione, Perfect Ruin, Songfic, beach, hawaiian shirts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 23:43:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 15,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7661791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bentnotbroken1/pseuds/bentnotbroken1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of Dramione drabbles and one-shots. More pairings may be added as I write.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

  
Hermione laid her head on her folded arms and glared at the clock on her desk as if it had personally offended her. Five minutes. She had five more minutes until she could pack up her things and get the hell out of that stifling office. If Zabini didn’t get the air fixed soon she was going to turn in her resignation letter.

  
There was a rapping sound behind her and a familiar voice floated in from the doorway. “Granger.”

  
What had she done in her past life to deserve this? She turned and glared at the owner of the voice. “What do you want, Malfoy?” She asked, as scathing as possible. “Surely you have better things to do with your time than harass lowly paralegals.”

  
He seemed to take in her appearance for a moment before he smirked. “Even royalty has to appear before peasants every once in awhile.”

  
Did he really just- “You sure think highly of yourself, don’t you?” She sighed, eying the clock once more. “Though I suppose your little fan base upstairs does nothing to deflate that ego of yours, throwing themselves at your feet like they do.”

  
He shrugged. “Why fight it when you can sit back and reap the rewards?”

  
“Ugh, please spare me the visuals.”

  
He made a small noise that sounded like a held in laugh. “While I do enjoy making you uncomfortable, I did come here for an actual reason.” He motioned to the file in his band.

  
“Oh, no.” she groaned. “No! I am leaving. Leaving, Malfoy.”

  
“But Blaise asked me –“

  
She shook her head fervently. “I don’t care if the minister for magic asked you to bring me that case file. I’m not about to spend another moment in this stuffy office. If you hadn’t noticed it's humid and hotter than Merlin's balls in here.”

  
He did laugh then. “You know, I thought your hair looked a bit bushier than normal, but I thought I’d be a gentleman about it and not bring it up.”

  
“Oh, shove off.” She hissed, grabbing what few things she needed and stuffing them in her purse. “I'm serious. I’m not staying here.”

  
She was moving to shoo him away so she could shut her door but an outstretched arm across the threshold stopped her. “ Then why don’t we migrate to my office.” She raised a skeptical brow. “It's air conditioned.” He offered and then smiled coyly. “Not to mention we have a cappuccino machine.”

  
She pondered this for a second, tapping her chin with a finger. “Is it important enough to warrant the over time?” She asked him.

  
He nodded. “It's imperative that we get this done. Very important client. Inheritance dispute.”

  
Oh, wonderful. Probably another pureblood spat over an estate. Why her?  
She eyed him expectantly. “Am I to assume you’d be helping me with this ‘oh so important' assignment?”

  
“Of course.” He lead her into the hall and waited for her to lock up her office. “Besides, royalty can’t always sit by and let the peasants do all work.”

  
They came upon the elevator hub and she pressed the arrow going up. “You’re going to be insufferable aren’t you?”

  
“Most likely,” He shrugged, “Are you going to be this incorrigible the whole night?”

  
She smirked. “Most likely.”

  
The elevator dinged and he followed her inside. “Brilliant.”


	2. Life's a Beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: Dramione/Hinny

 

“I can’t believe we're finally here!” Ginny exclaimed, hanging precariously over the side of their beach front balcony. “It’s so beautiful.”

  
Hermione came to stand next to her. “Yeah,” she agreed. “I’m honestly surprised the boys didn’t put up more of a fuss.”

  
“I’m not.” Ginny grinned. “You’d have agreed to anything too if you’d seen the look on your face when you walked into that office and slapped that brochure on his desk.”

  
She placed a hand on her hip and looked appalled. “I wasn’t that bad.”

  
“I'm going to have to agree with Ginny on that one,” Harry said, walking out of the opened French doors. “I was honestly scared for my life for a moment there.”

  
“Oh, don’t be such a baby, Harry. If I hadn’t forced you to actually look at the damn thing, you’d never have taken a vacation.”

  
He just smiled and joined them at the railing. “I didn’t say you were wrong.”

  
Hermione sighed and looked out over the beach a few meters below. The fine white sand looked just like it did in the pictures and the smell of salt and the sound of the waves just completed the whole ensemble. It was breathtaking.

  
She heard a snicker to her left and she turned her head. “What's so fun…” Her sentence tapered off when she saw the figure emerging from the living room. She tried hard not to laugh at the sight. 

Harry had no such qualms. He laughed wholeheartedly. “What the fu-“

  
A hand raised to silence him. “Don’t say a fuckin word, Potter.”

  
“Draco, what in Merlin's good name are you wearing?” Hermione asked, staring at the bright turquoise and pink Hawaiian shirt and white swim trunks.

  
“The lady at the gift shop down the street said was a must have, and that they went particularly well with my eyes.” He sighed and slipped a pair of sunglasses on his face. “But judging by the looks on your faces I’m going to assume I’ve been had.” 

Hermione shook her head and pulled him close, kissing his cheek. “Oh, that's an understatement, love.”

  
“Maybe you should change.” Ginny suggested. “I don’t know how I feel about being seen with someone wearing such a hideous shirt.”

  
“I feel as though I should be offended by that comment, Weasley, but everyone knows I could make a burlap sack look good.”

  
“Is the air thin up there on that mountain your ego sits on?” Harry asked with a smirk.

  
“Funny.”

  
The wizard clapped him on the back. “All joking aside, I think it makes you look more human.”

  
The blond raised a brow. “Opposed to what?”

  
Ginny answered, “Looking like an undertaker.”

  
“An under what?” Confusion flooded his features and the couple laughed at his expense.

  
“Alright, that's enough you two. Leave Draco alone.” Hermione admonished. “It’s his first time at a muggle resort.”

  
“And it will be my last if we stand here any longer talking about my wardrobe.”

  
Hermione steered them in the direction of the suite. “Ok, lets just go. I’m in dire need of a suntan.” She looked at her boyfriend and sighed. “We’re both in need of a suntan.”

  
He opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it as they bounded down the stairs. He just kept his eyes on the girl in front of him and smiled. Muggle vacation or not, he was happy to be here.

  
When they made it to the beach and they wasted no time running into the crystal clear sea. Ginny whooped and jumped on her boyfriends back, calling out to them as she did so. “Who's up for a game of chicken?”

  
“A game of what?” Draco asked in a serious voice.

  
The group broke out in laughter and Hermione just shook her head. This would be a long vacation of firsts, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. 


	3. Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Type: One-shot  
> Pairing: Dramione  
> POV: Harry

 

Surprises weren’t really Harry’s thing. He’d never liked being on the receiving end and the planning part wasn’t that much better, so he was already feeling a tad out of his comfort zone when Ginny and Pansy insisted that he surprise Hermione with a special luncheon for her 30th birthday.

  
“You can’t just give her flowers, Harry.” He recalled Ginny chiding him when he said he was going to send some to her office. “She's just been promoted and she’s your best friend.”

  
“She's your best friend too.” He reminded her with a not so subtle groan. “I don’t see why one of you two can’t be the one to fetch her. It's your idea.” Pansy had kicked him in the shin for that and he’d jumped back, cursing. “What the hell was that for?”

  
“First of all,” She counted off a finger. “You’ve been friends with her the longest, she’s saved your sorry arse on more than a dozen occasions, and you’re the head of your department.”

  
“What does my being the head of my department have to do with it?”

  
She grinned, “Well, since you’ve got the deepest pockets, you’re footing the bill. Might as well take full credit for it.”

  
He frowned. It had only been an hour since that conversation, but now it felt like ages had passed. Time seemed to be standing still for him as he stared at the wheels of Hermione’s office chair, cursing the gods for continuously finding new ways to torture him. Of all the things that could happen in his life, it had to be this?

  
The desk above him groaned as a body sat atop it. “Hurry up, Malfoy, we don’t have all day.” His friend sounded impatient as she pulled the man into her.

  
Harry wished Ginny and Pansy had never met. His eyes shut tightly and he tried not to think about the other wizard’s laugh or the throaty response of, “So pushy, Granger,” that followed.

  
Oh, how he wished those two had never met! Maybe then he wouldn’t be hiding under Hermione’s desk right now while Draco Malfoy snogged her senseless.   
He would have said something the moment they’d entered but she had already been undoing the tie around Malfoys neck and his hands had been too busy untucking her blouse from her skirt to notice a shocked Harry Potter sitting in her chair. He’d hesitated and now he was paying the price.

  
Without thinking he’d dropped to he floor and shuffled under her desk. What kind of foolishness had overcome him in that moment, he didn’t know, but what he wouldn’t give for the invisibility cloak right now!

  
“Gods, I’ve missed you.” Malfoy said, his voice muffled by either her hair or,he shuddered at the thought, her skin.

  
“It's been two days, Draco.” She scoffed.  
“Yes, well,” The sound of a zipper, “You know how needy I am.”

  
Harry was going to be sick. He should just say something. He should just crawl out from under the oak desk, swallow his pride, and save them all from further embarrassment. But he was frozen, unable to move, unable to breathe due to this bizarre turn of events. Malfoy and Hermione were literally fucking directly above him.

  
Everyone knew the two of them were seeing each other, but there was knowing and there was knowing. He could have gone his whole life without this visual in his head. And not only the visual, now he had an arraignment of sounds to go along with them. The moans, the curses, the scraping of wood against the floor, and the tell tale noise of sex, of wet flesh coming together, were the things that would undoubtedly keep him up at night.

  
There were just some things he couldn’t un-hear.

  
Like the crash of a coffee cup and multiple pens being scattered across the floor as the couple switched positions, or the chanting of yes, harder, oh god, and Draco's name echoing in the tiny office. He honestly didn’t know how much more he could take. His back ached from being crammed under the desk and his teeth hurt from clenching his jaw for so long. His joints were stiff and he tried to shift minutely to relieve some of the pressure but the movement caused his foot to slip out from his hiding spot. “Shit.” He muttered, dragging his foot back underneath the desk. For a second he didn’t worry about his blunder, they were too preoccupied with achieving mutual orgasm that surely they hadn’t seen or heard anything.

  
He was proven wrong, yet again, when all movement around him ceased and the only sounds in his ears were that of his heart beating and shallow panting coming from the couple that had just been in the throes of passion. He hadn’t heard the big finale so with much trepidation he let his eyes travel upward, stopping when they landed on Draco's shocked face as it peered over the edge of the desk at him.

  
“Potter?” He spoke slowly, as if he wasn’t quite sure that what be was seeing was real.

  
Harry felt a blush travel from his neck to his face as he gave a tiny salute. So much for saving them from embarrassment.

  
Gray eyes narrowed. “What the fu-“

  
He was cut off by a shriek of, “Harry!?”

  
A thump and a pained grunt of, “Ouch! Watch what you’re doing, Hermione,” indicated that it was probably almost safe to venture out of his little cave of shame.

  
He slowly emerged, keeping his back to them for a moment before turning around. Hermione’s hair was a bit disheveled, as was her blouse, and her arms were folded across her chest, a manila folder in one hand and her face cross. “Harry James Potter, what do you think you were doing?” She hissed, smacking him in the arm with the folder.

  
He looked to Malfoy for support but the other man wasn't paying him any attention. He was just standing nonchalantly to the side, retying the tie around his neck and buttoning up his shirt.

  
“Sorry, Hermione!”

  
“How long were you hiding there?” She asked, demanding an answer.

  
“I was already here when you came in! It's not my fault you were too busy snogging the hell out of Malfoy to notice .”   
Her face turned a slight shade of pink as she glared at him. “Well, still! Why didn’t you say anything? Why did you just hide under my desk?!”

  
He scratched the back of his head. “Honestly j was just kind of shocked. I didn’t really think about it. I guess all those years of sneaking around programmed me to hide first.”

  
Hermione covered her eyes with a hand. “Merlin, Harry. This is so mortifying.”

  
“You’re mortified? Try being the one trapped under there having to listen to his best friend getting fucked six ways from Sunday.”

  
Anger clouded her face but before she could respond Draco let out a loud laugh. They both turned their heads to face the blond, Hermione leveling him with an unimpressed stare. “Tell me, Draco. What exactly about this situation do you find funny?”

  
He smirked and nodded his head to Harry. “I’m just amused by the fact that this whole thing could have been avoided had Potter remembered to use a muffling charm.”

  
Silence overcame the room as the statement sunk in. “Well, bugger.” Harry grumbled. He hasn’t thought of that. Apparently it was a Harry-sucks-at-everything kind of day.

  
Hermione sighed and rubbed her temples with her free hand. “Well, nevermind that now, let’s just…let's just agree to forget this whole incident shall we?”

  
“Agreed.” Harry said enthusiastically.

  
Draco nodded, but a very telling grin never left his face as he replied, “Sure.” Like hell he would ever agree to forget this.

  
The witch in front of them smiled and straightened her skirt. “Oh,” She addressed Harry once more as they followed her to the door. “Why were you waiting in my office anyway?”

  
“I was sent by Ginny and Pansy to fetch you for a surprise luncheon.” He told her. “For your recent promotion and your 30th birthday.”

  
“Draco paused dramatically and waved his hands in the air. “Surprise!”

  
Hermione smacked him playfully. “Oh, shut up.” She turned back to Harry. “Do we still have time to make that lunch? I’m starving.”

  
“I can imagine.”

  
“What?”

  
“Nothing. We should have time.”

  
“Great!” She exclaimed, linking arms with both of them, all the discomfort from the last ten minutes almost disappearing entirely her body as they made their way to the restaurant. When they arrived Ginny and Pansy both enveloped her in hugs and congratulations, the three of them chatting excitedly as they made their way to their seats.

  
He tried to be cheerful and join into the conversations but the events of the morning still plagued him. It didn’t help the fact that Malfoy kept making innuendos and shooting him knowing looks the whole time. Fucking prick. He was never going to let Harry live it down. One would think he’d be the one feeling embarrassed, after all, he was the one having sex in the middle of afternoon on his girlfriend’s desk, not Harry. But this was Malfoy, after all. Something like that wouldn’t phase the man at all. No, he’d torture Harry with it until it no longer made him squirm, which would be hmmmm…never. He'd never get over it, so he supposed he’d just have to learn to deal with Malfoy’s quips.

  
When lunch was finished and they were waiting for the check, Pansy leaned over and whispered in his ear. “What's up with you and Malfoy?”

  
Obviously her knack of picking up and observing odd situations was still spot on. “Don’t ask.” He pleaded. “Just…don’t ask.”

  
“Why? What happened?”

  
He groaned loudly and smacked his head down on the table. “I just hate surprises.“ 


	4. Perfect Ruin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Perfect Ruin
> 
> Type: One-shot/songfic
> 
> Pairing: Romione/Dramione
> 
> First Person POV: Ron

If anyone had to break my heart, I'm glad it was her; all smooth skin and sarcasm. If this pain in my chest was what I had to endure in order to have heard her laugh, to have had felt her beneath me, to have enjoyed beating her at chess and drinking until the dawn, then it will all have been worth it.

To be honest, I don't know where it all went wrong. No, that isn't entirely true. I know the timeline. I know the catalyst. I know the reasons, but I just don't know why it had to happen.

There was never another woman before her that held my attention long. Perhaps that was the problem. I went into the relationship with hearts in my eyes and my guard down. She had easily hopped the wall I'd built around me, so I figured, this time, it would work out. Our conversations were never dull. She was always on about some new political agenda, scientific breakthrough, or philosophical conundrum, and while I couldn't always keep up with what she was saying, just watching the light in her eyes as she spoke was enough for me. Boring, most would snicker behind her back at University, but boring was not the word I'd use when describing Hermione Granger.

No, Hermione Granger was enamoring. She was beautiful, intelligent, and downright infuriating. I don't mean to say that in a bad way. Of course, our relationship had never been quite normal, so most people wouldn't understand when I say that she was infuriating in all the right ways. There was a fire inside of her and it came out when she was angry, and I liked that fire. It was the first thing I noticed and I craved it. It excited me. Looking back I realize how messed up that was. It would have been different had I been able to keep up with the spitfire that she was, but I couldn't. So I let her talk over me and I pretended to listen. I pretended to be upset because we always had the hottest makeup sex afterward.

I didn't realize it could turn ugly if we weren't careful. I didn't realize how blinded in lust and love I was that I ignored the problems arising.

She probably caught on before I did.

She was just too noble to say anything. Either that or she thought it would work itself out.

After all, we had a great home life. Our friends would tell us how we were meant for each other and I believed them. Even though she got her degree in half the time it would take me, and she was going in a totally different direction career wise, it never felt like our life together would change because of it. As long as she was sitting beside me, smiling, talking, laughing, I was happy.

But it could never last.

The moment she got her big break I felt my warm feeling of security slip. I started doubting myself and our relationship. I had always known she was a different kind of intelligent than I was. She was a different kind of intelligent than any of us. It had never bothered me before, but the first day she came home from M&B Inc. I had felt something shift. The smile she gave me when she walked into the door and started talking about her job was the brightest one I'd ever seen. I was so used to the one I put there, and seeing this, this smile that lit up the whole damn flat, felt like a slap in the face. What had relit that flame inside of her? The job? The people? The atmosphere?

All of the sudden I felt as if she was slipping away from me.

And so began our decent into perfect ruin.

The rows got worse and the silences got longer. I found myself wondering how long could we do it? How long would we stand on opposite sides, digging in our heels in order to prove the other wrong? How long could we continue in this way before we snapped? She just had to be right, even when she wasn't. She wouldn't back down, and the very thing that had made me fall in love with her in the first place had suddenly become a noose around our relationship. But I didn't want to lose her, no matter how many times her stubborn attitude caused strife between us or her friends. I would fold my hand. I would give her what she wanted. She was my everything, and maybe that's why when shit hit the fan, I refused to let go.

The rowing had moved from the playful banter that let too passionate and sometimes angry sex, and moved on to playing on each other's insecurities. The unshakable trust turned into suspicion as the days got colder and the nights got quieter.

"There is a really important meeting I have to attend." She would say in the morning at breakfast. "Don't wait up for me."

"It's fine. "I would tell her, giving a similar excuse. "This thesis I'm writing is really kicking my arse. I need to focus anyway."

I did have a thesis, but Harry had helped me finish it days before. What I really had was a passive aggressive pity party that later turned into a jealous rage. Sometimes I wonder how long we would have gone, how far we would have allowed ourselves to live that way, if not for the incident. I was wrong. I can admit it freely now. Accusing her of sleeping with her boss while gone off of whiskey was not the right thing to do. But how could I ignore it? Draco Malfoy was everything she could ever want in a man, attractive, witty, rich, intelligent to a fault. He could keep up with her where I couldn't. He always gave her the big deals because he trusted her to make it happen. He trusted her to help him run the company. And that was the problem. He trusted her more than I did.

I saw the way he looked at her at her company parties. I heard the way they spoke with each other during conference calls, and when they interacted outside of work. He wanted her. My mistake was thinking that she wanted him back, at least while she was still with me.

She was always the strong one. Morally and emotionally. I was always the first to jump into the fray with little to know facts and the first to take offense. I should have known she wouldn't have an affair. I should have known that the distance between us wasn't coming from her. I was the one that was pushing her away. It had happened so slowly that I hadn't noticed it. I was jealous of her success, of her beauty, of her outside friendships. I was the one with the problem.

It was sobering.

It was a sobering fact, but the lesson about myself had come too late. The damage was done.

Angry tears, cracked nails, splotchy skin, and packed bags greeted me the morning after I'd confronted them in front of a client. "Don't leave. I'm sorry." Words that no longer held any meaning for her.

"I can't live like this anymore, Ron." More tears. More anxious pacing. "The indifference I could handle. The nights I slept alone I could handle. But the distrust, the jealousy, and the total absence of tact are things that I cannot handle. And I shouldn't have to. I did nothing to earn that."

It was true. I hadn't trusted her. Look where it got me? I should have agreed and let the situation cool, but we were fighting. That fire, that pain, that love flared up inside of me.

I could have agreed, but instead, I deflected. "It wasn't you. It was him I didn't trust."

A glare. An impatient huff. "I am a grown woman. I can handle Draco Malfoy."

"That's what I was worried about." It was meant to be a sarcastic whisper but she had heard it loud and clear.

The suitcase in her hand thudded against the floor and the look she gave me was one I'll never forget. It was the face of a women realizing she was no longer in love. I was a stuttering mess, backpedaling and pleading my case but she'd already made up her mind. There may have been a chance of redemption had I chosen to let her go, let time cool our tempers, but no. I couldn't do that. I had to have a good row with her to feel alive.

Harry later told me that she ended up on his doorstep that night, a bawling mess, holding onto Ginny until she hiccupped herself to sleep. But the night after that and the night after that she'd spent in the blond bastard's penthouse. After everything that had happened the last time we'd spoken it was no surprise to me that she'd ended up in his arms. There was a connection between them, there always had been. But she would have never pursued it, would have never toyed with the idea had I not sabotaged our whole relationship.

It was my fault.

The pain. The heartache. The tears. It was all on me.

For months I barely ate or slept. I lived one day at a time and every day I resisted the urge to call her, to seek her out, to show up outside of her new flat. I got into a routine of working at my tiny office job and took my exams and drank away my sorrows at the pub down the street. Harry and Ginny had taken pity on me but had made it clear that they would take no sides. I didn't blame them. I asked about her less and less as the weeks wore on and eventually, I felt my breath come easier. The hole inside me wasn't as gaping as it'd been before. I was slowly moving on with my life.

I finally graduated from University that following spring, getting my bachelor's in History. My friends and family threw me a party at my family home in Yorkshire. It was a great time and as the night was winding down her familiar face came into my view. She gave me a quick hug and peck on the cheek, offering her congratulations. "I knew you'd do it." She said with a smile. She looked so good in that red dress. I ached to touch her, to hold her, but I knew she was no longer mine to hold. She was smiling, though, and that smile was directed at me once more. I could live with that. Just knowing that some day we may be able to move past all of this and become friends once again gave me hope. Sure, she hurt me and I hurt her, but if it was possible for us to be cordial, to interact, then hope was not lost.

And I was right. We slowly started attending events and parties of mutual friends and having the occasional luncheon with Harry. We were friends. It was weird going from lover back to a friend but it seemed to work for us. So when I saw the announcement for her impending marriage on my sister's countertop I didn't immediately burst out in tears. I still hated Malfoy on principle, but I couldn't deny that the fire I'd fallen in love with, the fire I only saw while we rowed, was lit all the time around him. He was to her what she was to me. He encouraged her, helped her, brought out the best in her.

I'm not angry anymore. Still brokenhearted a bit, maybe, but I try to find solace in the fact that I had her love for that brief moment in time. I know she loved me. I could feel it. I can still feel it, deep down. And maybe if I had done things differently we would still be together, but honestly, I don't believe that. I think our love was destined to fail, it was just a matter of time. I am telling the truth when I say I am grateful for our time together, though. Those years of friendship, of comfortable love, were the best of my life. I am the person I am because of her love. She pushed me to be better and yeah, I screwed up, but she helped pick me back up. She let me make mistakes and fix them. She saw all the good in me that I couldn't see. She taught me to love myself. Her love moved me. Even when things ended, when my life powered over me, she was there to help me along. She never abandoned me, even in the midst of our ugly break up.

I will always love Hermione Granger.

But I am strong enough now to wish her all the happiness in the world.


	5. Lipstick on the Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Lipstick on the Mirror  
> Type: Drabble  
> Pairing: Ginsy  
> POV: Ginny

Ginny was in a foul mood. 

 

It could have been the hit she’d taken from a Bludger earlier that morning during practice, or the row she’d had with her Team Captain shortly after. It could have been from the impromptu lunch date with her brother Ron, because only  _ he _ could ignore the emotional cues she was all but shouting at him and go about pushing her buttons until she left in an angry huff. It could also have because she hadn’t seen a certain someone in so long she thought she might die. It could have been a number of things that had happened on this Godric forsaken day, but it didn’t really matter what started it. The only thing that mattered was getting home. 

 

She dropped her bag on the floor the moment she entered her flat, not bothering to kick off her shoes as she made her way to the bedroom. Maybe if she took a shower she’d feel better? She shed her clothes as she went, shoving the bathroom door open as she threw her bra somewhere by the door jamb. She was bending over to yank off her socks when a flash of color caught her eyes. She straightened up, a smile breaking across her face as she stared at the mirror. 

 

There was a note scrawled on the smooth reflective surface in a red lipstick,  _ deep maraschino cherry, _ a sultry voice chided in the back of her mind, that read,

 

_ Meet me at nine, in the place where it all began. _

_ Wear something sexy. ;) _

                                                 -P

 

The foul mood from earlier evaporated as she reread the note, grinning madly at its implications. It had been three weeks since she’d seen her lover. Three weeks of sexual frustration and longing that left an unhappy feeling in her gut. Witch Weekly was expanding the brand across France so of course her girlfriend had to be the one to negotiate the deal. She’d been gone three weeks,  three weeks too long, but it was over now. She was back, and obviously had been since the morning if the note was any indication, so she could stop wallowing in self pity. 

 

She quickly turned on the shower and stepped into the steam, letting it cover her skin like a warm embrace. It felt good. Not just washing the dirt and grime from the day off, but the anticipation of what was coming later. She even shaved her legs and took the time to fix her hair. When she rummaged in her closet her eyes caught on a thin black shirt with a plunging neckline. It was tight, but that was kind of the point. She squeezed her B-cup sized breasts into the obviously A-cup sized shirt and slid on a pair of her favorite dark jeans. A pair of boots finished the look and she gave herself one last appreciative look in the mirror before apparating away. 

 

Being a witch had its perks. Basically teleporting from one place to another saved time and patience, there was practically a charm for everything from a stain in your blouse to wrestling even the most unmanageable hair into something beautiful, and the fact that they could get into just about any club or establishment they wanted. Yes, being a witch was nice. 

 

The Silver Python, and yes she was aware of the irony, was busy when she arrived. Of course it was always busy. It was one of the most popular clubs in Wizarding Britain. It had the perfect blend of magic and muggle commodities, a  fact didn’t go unnoticed by its pureblood patrons but they let their prejudices go in the name of getting ridiculously drunk. In fact that was how she’d hooked up with her girlfriend in the first place. 

 

She’d been in her brother and Harry’s class in school so Ginny didn’t get much interaction with her besides the random times she’d seen her doting on Draco Malfoy, but she hadn’t been on her radar back then. She hadn’t even come to terms with her sexuality at that point. That had all changed two years ago when they’d crossed paths on the dancefloor. Ginny had recognized her but neither said anything about it. They were drunk and enjoying their youth, why ruin it by bringing up the nastiness of war? 

 

It hadn’t started out intentional. It was just a few harmless flirtations, a few well timed smirks, and then it was just dancing. Sexy, dirty, dancing. She couldn't recall who started it, but there was a  brush of lips on her ear and her hands ventured down to rest on a perfect arse as their hips swaying in time to the music. They fit together perfectly, like they were meant for each other, and sure that sounded really sappy but she’d done the whole crush thing with Harry in school. This was different. It felt real. It felt right. What had started out as innocent fun had turned into a kissing groping fiasco and they’d ended up dancing until their feet ached and were drenched in their own sweat. Ginny wasn’t going to let her get away so she’d offered the woman a shower and an amazing finale if she went home with her. 

 

Needless to say she’d quickly agreed. 

 

They hadn't even made it Ginny’s king sized bed, or the shower for that matter. Round one played out in the hallway on the floor, and while there wasn't much finesse, Godric did it feel good. 

 

She smiled to herself at the memory and asked the bartender for a Long Island. The man nodded and soon the music was thrumming under her feet. By the time she had a drink in her hand she'd already been caught up in its beat. It was lively and she soaked up the atmosphere like a sponge. It really was reminiscent of the first time she’d come there, lights flashing, bass thumping, bodies dancing, and the smell of a combination of sweat and cologne that called to her. She downed the shot in her hand and set it back on the bar, letting her eyes scan the crowd. She knew what she was looking for and she found it a moment later, sliding across the dancefloor like a snake. It was her. There was no mistaking that slight body with long black hair and a milky complexion. The woman turned around and smiled. Her lips were stained the same shade as that left on her mirror earlier and her dark eyes flitted from one person to another, a look of mischief and desire in them. 

 

Ginny hopped down from the bar and pushed her way through gyrating bodies until a pair of arms slipped around her, familiar hands moving down to rest on her hips. “Did you miss me?”

 

Ginny smirked and twisted around, kissing the woman hard. “What do you think?” She groaned against her lips.

 

_ “I _ think that somebody is trying a little too hard to get laid,” She broke away from her girlfriend and motioned to the skin tight top Ginny had chosen. “Not that I'm complaining.”

 

The redhead rolled her eyes. “You're the one who told me to dress sexy, Pansy. You knew  _ exactly _ what you were getting into.” 

 

“Oh, I was counting on it.” Pansy admitted, molding her body into hers. “I’ve thought of nothing else for weeks.”

 

“Well that makes two of us,” She snorted, stretching her arms above her head and bringing them back down in time with the music. 

 

Pansy’s hands roamed over her body as they danced. “Circe,” she moaned when Ginny bit the sensitive part of her neck. “I'm never letting Draco talk me into taking another one of those business trips again. Distance does  _ not _ make the heart grow fonder.” She slipped her slender fingers under her girlfriend's shirt. “It just makes it hornier.”

 

“Oh, I don't know. I think he may be onto something.” She half sighed, “I have a feeling the I-missed-you sex is going to be  _ fantastic _ .” 

 

Ginny felt the smirk resting against her temple. “You don't have to be proficient in Divinations to foresee that.” 

 

“Do you have to be to see us getting the fuck out of here?” She asked haughtily. “If you don't shag me in the next ten minutes I may do something that will cause us both to be barred from this club for life.”

 

Ginny didn't have to tell her twice. She took her hand and dragged her through the doors at the back of the building. As soon as they hit the chilled air of night Pansy kissed her hard, pushing Ginny against the now closed door. Her tongue slipped easily into her mouth and hands moved from her stomach to her neck, fingers tangling in the ginger locks. “You feel so good, Gin.” She hissed when they broke apart. “Can't wait to take you apart.” 

 

“Well, you won't even make it past second base if we keep getting distracted.” She replied, gently pushing Pansy back. “Let’s.” She tugged on her hand. “Go.” 

  
Moments later they were shedding their tight clothes and snogging on the living room floor, neither patient enough to make it to the bed; she tugged off Pansy’s knickers, smirking to herself because it wouldn't even be the first time.


	6. Lipstick on the Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Lipstick on the Mirror
> 
> Type: Drabble
> 
> Pairing: Ginsy
> 
> POV: Ginny

Ginny was in a foul mood.

It could have been the hit she'd taken from a Bludger earlier that morning during practice, or the row she'd had with her Team Captain shortly after. It could have been from the impromptu lunch date with her brother Ron, because only he could ignore the emotional cues she was all but shouting at him and go about pushing her buttons until she left in an angry huff. It could also have because she hadn't seen a certain someone in so long she thought she might die. It could have been a number of things that had happened on this Godric forsaken day, but it didn't really matter what started it. The only thing that mattered was getting home.

She dropped her bag on the floor the moment she entered her flat, not bothering to kick off her shoes as she made her way to the bedroom. Maybe if she took a shower she'd feel better? She shed her clothes as she went, shoving the bathroom door open as she threw her bra somewhere by the door jamb. She was bending over to yank off her socks when a flash of color caught her eyes. She straightened up, a smile breaking across her face as she stared at the mirror.

There was a note scrawled on the smooth reflective surface in a red lipstick, deep maraschino cherry, a sultry voice chided in the back of her mind, that read,

Meet me at nine, in the place where it all began.

Wear something sexy. ;)

-P

The foul mood from earlier evaporated as she reread the note, grinning madly at its implications. It had been three weeks since she'd seen her lover. Three weeks of sexual frustration and longing that left an unhappy feeling in her gut. Witch Weekly was expanding the brand across France so of course her girlfriend had to be the one to negotiate the deal. She'd been gone three weeks, three weeks too long, but it was over now. She was back, and obviously had been since the morning if the note was any indication, so she could stop wallowing in self pity.

She quickly turned on the shower and stepped into the steam, letting it cover her skin like a warm embrace. It felt good. Not just washing the dirt and grime from the day off, but the anticipation of what was coming later. She even shaved her legs and took the time to fix her hair. When she rummaged in her closet her eyes caught on a thin black shirt with a plunging neckline. It was tight, but that was kind of the point. She squeezed her B-cup sized breasts into the obviously A-cup sized shirt and slid on a pair of her favorite dark jeans. A pair of boots finished the look and she gave herself one last appreciative look in the mirror before apparating away.

Being a witch had its perks. Basically teleporting from one place to another saved time and patience, there was practically a charm for everything from a stain in your blouse to wrestling even the most unmanageable hair into something beautiful, and the fact that they could get into just about any club or establishment they wanted. Yes, being a witch was nice.

The Silver Python, and yes she was aware of the irony, was busy when she arrived. Of course it was always busy. It was one of the most popular clubs in Wizarding Britain. It had the perfect blend of magic and muggle commodities, a fact didn't go unnoticed by its pureblood patrons but they let their prejudices go in the name of getting ridiculously drunk. In fact that was how she'd hooked up with her girlfriend in the first place.

She'd been in her brother and Harry's class in school so Ginny didn't get much interaction with her besides the random times she'd seen her doting on Draco Malfoy, but she hadn't been on her radar back then. She hadn't even come to terms with her sexuality at that point. That had all changed two years ago when they'd crossed paths on the dancefloor. Ginny had recognized her but neither said anything about it. They were drunk and enjoying their youth, why ruin it by bringing up the nastiness of war?

It hadn't started out intentional. It was just a few harmless flirtations, a few well timed smirks, and then it was just dancing. Sexy, dirty, dancing. She couldn't recall who started it, but there was a brush of lips on her ear and her hands ventured down to rest on a perfect arse as their hips swaying in time to the music. They fit together perfectly, like they were meant for each other, and sure that sounded really sappy but she'd done the whole crush thing with Harry in school. This was different. It felt real. It felt right. What had started out as innocent fun had turned into a kissing groping fiasco and they'd ended up dancing until their feet ached and were drenched in their own sweat. Ginny wasn't going to let her get away so she'd offered the woman a shower and an amazing finale if she went home with her.

Needless to say she'd quickly agreed.

They hadn't even made it Ginny's king sized bed, or the shower for that matter. Round one played out in the hallway on the floor, and while there wasn't much finesse, Godric did it feel good.

She smiled to herself at the memory and asked the bartender for a Long Island. The man nodded and soon the music was thrumming under her feet. By the time she had a drink in her hand she'd already been caught up in its beat. It was lively and she soaked up the atmosphere like a sponge. It really was reminiscent of the first time she'd come there, lights flashing, bass thumping, bodies dancing, and the smell of a combination of sweat and cologne that called to her. She downed the shot in her hand and set it back on the bar, letting her eyes scan the crowd. She knew what she was looking for and she found it a moment later, sliding across the dancefloor like a snake. It was her. There was no mistaking that slight body with long black hair and a milky complexion. The woman turned around and smiled. Her lips were stained the same shade as that left on her mirror earlier and her dark eyes flitted from one person to another, a look of mischief and desire in them.

Ginny hopped down from the bar and pushed her way through gyrating bodies until a pair of arms slipped around her, familiar hands moving down to rest on her hips. "Did you miss me?"

Ginny smirked and twisted around, kissing the woman hard. "What do you think?" She groaned against her lips.

"I think that somebody is trying a little too hard to get laid," She broke away from her girlfriend and motioned to the skin tight top Ginny had chosen. "Not that I'm complaining."

The redhead rolled her eyes. "You're the one who told me to dress sexy, Pansy. You knew exactly what you were getting into."

"Oh, I was counting on it." Pansy admitted, molding her body into hers. "I've thought of nothing else for weeks."

"Well that makes two of us," She snorted, stretching her arms above her head and bringing them back down in time with the music.

Pansy's hands roamed over her body as they danced. "Circe," she moaned when Ginny bit the sensitive part of her neck. "I'm never letting Draco talk me into taking another one of those business trips again. Distance does not make the heart grow fonder." She slipped her slender fingers under her girlfriend's shirt. "It just makes it hornier."

"Oh, I don't know. I think he may be onto something." She half sighed, "I have a feeling the I-missed-you sex is going to be fantastic."

Ginny felt the smirk resting against her temple. "You don't have to be proficient in Divinations to foresee that."

"Do you have to be to see us getting the fuck out of here?" She asked haughtily. "If you don't shag me in the next ten minutes I may do something that will cause us both to be barred from this club for life."

Ginny didn't have to tell her twice. She took her hand and dragged her through the doors at the back of the building. As soon as they hit the chilled air of night Pansy kissed her hard, pushing Ginny against the now closed door. Her tongue slipped easily into her mouth and hands moved from her stomach to her neck, fingers tangling in the ginger locks. "You feel so good, Gin." She hissed when they broke apart. "Can't wait to take you apart."

"Well, you won't even make it past second base if we keep getting distracted." She replied, gently pushing Pansy back. "Let's." She tugged on her hand. "Go."

Moments later they were shedding their tight clothes and snogging on the living room floor, neither patient enough to make it to the bed; she tugged off Pansy's knickers, smirking to herself because it wouldn't even be the first time.


	7. Unsteady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Drarry (background) Dramione (friendship)
> 
> POV: Draco

Draco zipped up his jacket, attempting to block out the chill of the autumn air. If it was up to him he'd be nice and warm in the room at St. Mungo's, but instead of settling down with a of a cup of tea and good company, he was trudging after Hermione Granger as she lead the way through the Forbidden Forest. She hadn't exactly been the best of company but there was a good reason for him tagging along. Though watching her struggle up a steep hill was almost painful. "This would be easier if you-"

"Look, Malfoy." Hermione huffed in irritation, cutting him off. "I don't even know why you're here but I didn't ask you to come along, so if you could keep your complaining to a minimum that would be great."

The blonde scowled at the back of her head. "I'm not complaining, I'm just pointing out that there are much better ways to get the information you're looking for that doesn't involve us galavanting around in bloody woods."

"Oh? So all the grumbling about the mud ruining your precious shoes and how they weren't made for hiking is just you making pleasant conversation?" She asked mockingly.

If he wasn't trekking up the blasted hill he would have crossed his arms and given her the world's biggest bitch face. "These shoes aren't made for hiking and I just got them earlier this week. Forgive me for wanting to keep my things nice."

"Again, I didn't ask you to come."

"Perhaps not, but I made a promise, Granger." He replied steadily, cringing slightly as the atmosphere changed between them.

Her footsteps faltered and she stopped her ascent. "I...that wasn't...I had nothing to do with that." Her voice sounded small now, almost lost in wind and the trees.

He sighed, climbing a couple of meters to stand beside her. "Does it really matter?"

She finally met his eyes. "Harry isn't in any position to demand that kind of thing from you."

"Isn't he though?" He asked her. "He's worried about you, they all are. You've been running yourself ragged and that's why he asked me to take care of you."

She frowned and started moving again. "I am fine. I don't need you to babysit me so you can leave at any time. In fact you should do just that. I'm sure he's missing you." He could hear the edge to her voice but he just continued following after her. "I'm not going to crash. I eat and I sleep just fine. I've got it all under control."

"You can't do it all, Granger. No matter how strong you are or how intelligent or stubborn. No one is fine dealing with things like this. Not you, not Harry, not me." His heart ached in his chest a little at the words. "At least not alone."

She ignored him and continued on, looking for the path that would lead her to the thing she'd come out here for. They were both silent for a long after that, her searching desperately for the tiny blue flower that could possibly be the answer to their problems, and him standing quietly behind her as she muttered to herself. It wasn't like he didn't understand her desperation. In fact, he was acutely familiar with the frightening and unrelenting feeling that they were running out of time. Oh how he felt it. Every day. Every night. With every breath. But he could compartmentalize when the need arose. Granger couldn't.

That's why Harry had made him promise.

No matter what happens. Take care of Hermione. She will need you even if she doesn't say it.

He'd wanted to protest, to tell him that he'd never have to make that vow because Harry was going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine. But deep down he knew. He knew they weren't going to live happily ever after and he was deluding himself if he thought otherwise. He'd somewhat accepted that either way their lives were going to change. He'd accepted it. But Granger handn't.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he watched her. She was still digging around, pleading to a god to help her find it. After what seemed like hours Draco got tired of watching her pulling out weeds and crawling along the ground. He reached out to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. The touch made her flinch but she didn't pull away from it. She wiped her face with the back of her sleeve but he couldn't tell if it was her getting rid of the sweat on her brow or the evidence of her tears on her cheeks. "You've got to stop." He whispered, crouching down in front of her.

"I can't." She cried, softly. "I can't. I need to do this. He needs me to do this."

He shook his head and brushed her hair out of her face. "He needs you to be his friend right now, not his healer." She looked like she was about to protest so he continued, "I know you want to help, and we are all grateful for it, but he's dying, Granger."

She pulled away from him as if his words had burned her and they both stood to their full height. Anger seeped into her eyes as she glared at him. "I know that!" She seethed. "Why the hell do you think I'm out here? Why do you think I've spent more sleepless nights than I can count pouring through every book I can get my hands on? I'm not doing this to feed a hero complex, Malfoy. I'm doing this for him! For us!" She yelled, shoving a finger into his chest. "Because we can't lose him! I can't...I can't lose him." Tears fell unchecked down her face. "So don't tell me to stop. Don't tell me to give up. Because I won't! You all may have given up hope, but I will never give up on him!"

"No one is telling you to give up." He promised her. "And none of us are throwing in the towel, so i find that statement offensive. It's just...we need to be reasonable. It's like you said. You've spent more sleepless nights locked away from everyone than being with them. Don't you think he'd rather have you, his best friend, sitting beside him instead of your shadow? When was the last time you even saw him? Two weeks ago? Two weeks, Granger. How can you stand there and justify you being out here and not by his side?"

"Don't try to guilt trip me Malfoy!" She spit out. "I know how long it's been! But it's the right thing to do! I need to be out here! Every moment I'm not looking for a cure is a moment wasted."

"No, It really isn't." He said sadly. "Tell me honestly, If Harry…." He choked on the next words. "IIf he died tonight would you regret not spending his last few months with him instead of going on this wild goose chase?"

Her mouth popped open in surprise, and maybe a little outrage as they stared each other down. "That's not fair, Malfoy. That's not fair."

"Just answer the damn question. Would you regret not spending what little time you had left with him? Would you be fine with him dying while you are miles and miles away, too lost in grief to allow yourself any small amount of peace with him?"

Head bowed and hands shaking she answered, "I don't...I want to be with him...I'd regret that, but I can't just let him die."

"You're not the only one trying to help him. He has a team of Healers doing whatever they can and some of the best potion master's trying to come up with a cure. You aren't in this by yourself. He misses you. He wants to see you. He is so concerned that he had me promise to take care of you. Me. Can't you see what this is doing to him? He wants you to be ok."

"I'll never be ok." She admitted. "I won't be ok until he is healthy and out of that hospital bed. What am I going to do if he never gets up? I don't want to think about it. I'm trying so hard to make this right. He's done so much. Why can't I do this for him? I feel like a failure. He's my bestfriend, I love him, and I can't just sit here waiting for bad news."

Her conviction was almost tangible and his heart clenched in his chest. Granger wore her heart on her sleeve, her emotions out in the open for everyone to see. It made him a little bit envious. It was so different from him, who sat by his boyfriend's sick bed reading the daily prophet and talking about Quidditch before the other man broke down into one of his coughing fits. He'd hold his hand, whisper to him, be there for him. But he wouldn't shed a tear no matter what diagnoses they gave. He had to be strong. He had to be strong for all of them. But right now, standing in front of her, watching her cry and her body shake, he found himself slipping. Just a little.

"Granger." His voice sounded broken when he spoke and he shut his eyes, not wanting to see her reaction. "You're not...you're not the only one that loves him." Warm arms wrapped around him and he felt her head press against his chest between his chin and shoulder, her hair tickling his throat. It was an unexpected embrace but his own arms lifted automatically and pulled her in closer. "You're not the only one that won't be ok."

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I know it's killing you too. I just...it's sometimes easy to forget I'm not the only one whose heart is breaking."

"I suppose my stoic nature doesn't help much with proving you otherwise." He coughed, trying to stop the emotions threatening to surface.

She laughed softly, burying her face in his coat. "You don't have to hide your feelings, you know? It's ok to let them out every once in awhile."

"I know, Granger." He sighed, blinking away the tears, and holding onto her like a tether. "I know. But I'm trying...I'm trying to be strong here. Just….just let me take care of you so we can go back home and say I kept my promise and tell him all about our bonding experience out in the woods."

She nodded her head but gave no other response. "How is he?" She asked suddenly, breaking away from him. "How is he really?"

He looked to the ground as he replied, "He's...he's not good. That's why I'm out here. That's why I want you to come back."

"Shit."

"I know I can't make you come back with me, but I hope you do. I don't want you to have any regrets." He said, offering her his hand. "So, what are you going to do? Stay out here until it's too late? Or come back with me?" She looked down at his hand and then back up to his face. Her eyes were glazed and shiny, and he feared she was about to cry again. "Come on, Granger. Harry is waiting for us."

"Ok." She agreed, entwining their fingers together. "Let's go home."


	8. What Happens Around the Cauldron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: None
> 
> POV: Pansy
> 
> Prompt: What happens around the cauldron, stays around the cauldron (Quills and Parchment FB group)

 

Manicured nails clicked nervously against the wooden desktop until the clock above her chimed twelve times, announcing the start of a new day. She took a deep breath and stood, gathering her bag with all her supplies in her arms before silently creeping out the door.

This was a risk, she  _knew_  that, but it was far too late to turn back. She was  _involved_  now. She didn't know how the hell she allowed herself to get dragged into one of Hermione Granger's outrageous schemes. She didn't even  _like_ witch, but somehow Theo and Blaise talked her into joining them.

" _Think of it as an adventure, Panse."_ Theo had said. " _Not every run of the mill witch or wizard could do what we're trying to do."_

" _Which is_ what  _exactly?"_

The two boys had grinned at her then, before Zabini had whispered in her ear. " _Bring back Draco."_

Her heart had stuttered, her mouth had gone dry, and she replied, " _I'm in."_

That was two months ago, and every week since then she had met up with the others and painstakingly went through hours of potion brewing and spell casting with people she barely tolerated on a good day. Being corrigible was hard, and the work was draining, not to mention  _illegal_.. But she would basically do anything at this point.

It was ten after midnight when she finally came to the right hallway, huffing in annoyance as found the old classroom where the meeting was taking place. When she whispered the password the door swung open, revealing her friends and a few others sitting in a circle on the floor, a large cauldron in the middle of it.

"Nice of you to join us, Pansy." Theo called from the far side of the circle. "I thought you'd sit this one out."

She rolled her eyes and shoved her way between him and Luna Lovegood. "Shut up, Theo. You know I don't back down from a challenge, especially one such as this."

"There's a first time for everything."

The witch ignored her friend and started unpacking the ingredients and tools, laying them out in a line on front of her. She looked around and noticed the others doing the same. Granger and Blaise were whispering back and forth across from where she sat but she couldn't hear what they were saying. Not that it mattered, they could be discussing the bloody weather for all she knew, but she gave them a small nod when they caught her gaze.

"Alright." Their bushy haired leader said, clapping her hands together, looking a bit deranged as she swayed in front of them. "First, I would like to say that I appreciate all of your help. You know we couldn't have done these spells and potions alone the last few weeks, so we're eternally grateful for your cooperation." She looked around the circle and smiled brightly at them all.

How anyone could look so happy before performing resurrection magic was beyond her. Pansy was a bundle of nerves and she wasn't even the one organizing the whole thing. Though she understood the other witch's need to do this. She'd lost him too. Of course she'd dive head first into dangerous and forbidden magic. She wouldn't be Hermione Granger if she didn't.

"Secondly, I want to take a moment to reiterate the importance of this spell and the consent needed to make it work. So if anyone is having second thoughts, now would be the time to speak up. We won't hold it against you."

No one made a move or gave any indication that they wanted out, so Granger smiled once more and motioned for them all to begin. They'd been given instructions via letters the night before, so they all moved in sync, fulfilling their own part of the potion. After another ten minutes of mostly silence, Granger moved up on her knees. "Nos dicimus in divinis." She muttered. "Ut spiritus vitae"

It sounded like a prayer and Pansy briefly wondered if this was a part of the spell or if Granger was just religious.

She listened as the witch spoke more words and threw a handful of purple powder into the concoction. When she was done she nodded to the place in front of each of them. This was it. The end. The last moments before they all changed forever. Pansy swallowed her sudden anxiety and gripped the cold steel, waiting for instruction.

It was Blaise, this time, that spoke to the small group. "Finally, this last step requires the blood of the willing." He pulled out his own dagger. "I assume you don't need me to give you a play by play on how to do that." He raised the twisted silver up but paused, giving them all a wicked smile and reminding them, "And as always….what happens around the cauldron... stays around the cauldron," before finally sliding it across his palm, not even flinching as the blood pooled on his hand. He leaned forward and let the red liquid drip into the cauldron. It hissed a little as it accepted the gift and they all followed suit, bleeding into the potion like a sacrifice. Which...that was exactly what they were. But it was a small one to make if they achieved their goal.

They all stood, holding hands above the bubbling brew, and started to chant. Granger's voice was loudest of all and Pansy could hear the emotion in it as she repeated the words over and over. The temperature in the room dropped and there was a sudden swirling cyclone of wind around them. The force of it was slowly pushing them all back and away from the cauldron. They kept going regardless. They weren't stopping there. Not when they were this close. She started when the sound of wailing filled the room and fought back a scream when a feeling of immense dread washed over her.

Tears pricked her eyes and she found that hers weren't the only ones. Theo's hand gripped hers tightly as they looked at one another and she knew that for better or worse, they were in this together.

She didn't have long to think about that though, because the very air was sucked right out of them, causing them all to fall forward onto their knees. There was a shocking pain blooming in her chest and a strong tugging sensation as she struggled for breath. Her head felt like it was going to explode and she was literally on the verge of passing out, nails digging into the hardwood floor beneath them as she shoved her head down. If she had any breath left inside of her, she was sure she'd be screaming like a banshee.

Then, as suddenly as the assault came, it left, allowing them all to take big shuddering gulps of air. It was almost too much oxygen at one time and she felt dizzy but when she finally calmed herself everything felt lighter and Pansy shook her head to clear her thoughts. She hadn't had the capacity to think about whether or not the spell worked before, but now that she was more aware, it was  _all_ she could think about.

There were sounds of coughing, hacking, and crying surrounding her but she ignored them, rising up on her hands and knees. She lifted her eyes and caught the form of Granger rising above them, her arm outstretched and tears running down her reddened cheeks. Pansy slowly let her gaze follow the witch's line of sight, and for the second time that night, her breath was stolen from her.

A naked figure stood where the wind had dissipated and it cocked its head to the side. It took her a moment and a lot of blinking before she allowed herself to believe…..

The figure let out a laugh and spoke in an almost tender voice that Pansy hadn't heard in almost a year. "Miss me, Granger?"

The girl in question just nodded and took a step forward, letting her hand trace the lines of his face. "It's you. Draco...it's really you."

He barked out another laugh, taking her hand in his. "Of course it's me. You're far too brilliant to botch a spell like that." He smiled and turned to the room at large. "While I appreciate you all for bringing me back, I find it rather unfortunate that none of you thought to bring me some clothes."

This seemed to release the spell of silence from the rest of the group and the room filled with voices. But none of them mattered. All that mattered at that moment was that they  _succeeded_. They did it. They brought him back. And even if they all rotted away in Azkaban for this, Pansy knew it was all worth it just to hear her best friend's voice again.

Draco looked her way and waved his hand, his lips forming words she couldn't hear. She nodded in turn but her mind was a jumbled mess. She felt like she was dreaming. He was  _here_. He was  _alive_. It shouldn't be possible. Yet...here he stood, wrapping his arms around a shaking bushy haired witch and letting Blaise drape a cloak over his pale and naked frame.

Theo seems to share her wondrous thoughts and he grabbed her hand, pulling her from the shock of the situation. "We did it, Panse." He said with the happiest smile he'd given her in months.

She returned his smile and wiped a tear from her eye. "Yes, Theo. Yes we did."


	9. An Oceanside Rendezvous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paring: Hansy
> 
> POV: Pansy
> 
> Prompt: Pansy, Ocean waves, "My thoughts are always loudest in the middle of the night."
> 
> From: Dramione Fanfiction Forum (18+) Drabble Challenge

 

* * *

The smell of salt in the air was the first indication that she was nearing her destination. She could just make out the deep blue of the ocean from where she'd apparated moments before and she took a deep, slow breath before starting down the hill near the cliffside. In her haste to leave, she hadn't realized how early she'd arrived until she got to the shack where they were supposed to meet, only to find it empty.

She shrugged off the frustration and pulled off her sandals, leaving them by the door before trekking through the sand to the water. The sound of the waves and the feel of the tide swirling around her ankles was soothing. She should really think about finding a seaside manor. It would be therapeutic, getting away from her father and age old traditions. It was a different world now and she was a different person. She'd  _changed_.  _Everyone_ had changed after The Battle. It had been five years and her heart still raced when she thought back on it. The screaming, the blood, the  _destruction_. 'What she'd seen, what she'd  _done_ ; those memories were haunting her. They were what kept her awake. They were why she was here now, on her search for peace and forgiveness.

She sat down just far enough away that the tide didn't reach her and ran a finger through the wet sand.

"Pansy," A voice called behind her. "You're early."

She turned and nodded her head in greeting. "If you had to listen to my mother prattle on about marriage arrangements, Potter, you'd leave early too."

"I suppose that's true," he said, taking a seat in the sand next to her. "How long do we have today?"

She looked over at the brunette and sighed, "Not as long as I need, I'm sure."

"Well, you look better, if that helps?"

"Thanks, but it really doesn't," she scoffed, leaning back on her hands. "Wizarding Britain could be on bloody fire and I'd still look like I just walked out of a cover spread in Witch Weekly."

"The Pureblood in you?"

Her lips twitched. "Of course. Don't you know we must be presentable one hundred percent of the time? How else are we to find appropriate husbands?"

"They really pound that into you all, don't they?"

"You don't know the half of it."

"I could," he said softly,"if you wanted to tell me."

Surprised, she stared into the Everest green. "I thought these meetings were about me finding redemption in your arms?"

That gained her a laugh. "Right. Well, it doesn't have to be all we do, you know. I'm quite interested in what goes on in your mind."

"You shouldn't be. It's quite a dark place, Potter."

A look came over his face then, melancholy mixed with something else. "Are they quiet? Your thoughts?" he asked, "Or do they ring loudly in your ears, demanding attention?"

This...This was not what she had expected from their secret rendezvous today.

"It depends," she answered after a few silent moments. "What about you?"

"My thoughts are loudest in the dead of the night." He turned his focus to the waves lapping on the shore. "When there are no distractions it's easy for them to consume me."

"Yes, that seems about right." Pansy agreed. It was harder to turn off the negative when there was nothing to counter it with. "What do you do when that happens?"

"I find something to do usually. But lately," his hand reached for hers. "I've been thinking about you."

Her breath hitched and she squeezed his hand. "And does it work?"

"Every time." he answered with a smile.

"Me too." She told him sincerely. "All the bad seems to go away when I'm with you."

"Then what are we doing, Pansy?" he grumbled, the mood shifting a bit as he stood. "The way we feel...what we've been through, we have a real connection."

She brushed sand off her legs as she rose from the ground. "You know why, Harry. I'm supposed to marry-"

"Fuck him," he hissed. "Fuck the whole thing. You don't have to live that life anymore, Pansy. You have a choice. You can choose the path you walk."

She reached for him. "Harry-"

"If you were to choose," He held her at arm's link and looked directly into her eyes. "really choose the path to walk, which one would you choose?"

She didn't even have to think about it as she automatically whispered, "Yours." She kissed him softly before pulling away. "Always yours."


	10. A Loyal Servant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obviously not canon compliant :) Also, two prompts in one.
> 
> A gift for GeekMom13
> 
> Prompt 1: The Slytherin Cabal FB Group's Drabble Challenge - Regulus Black- "I'm afraid I'm running out of time." Salazar's Locket
> 
> Prompt 2: GeekMom13 Winner of Drabble Challenge - Something doesn't/didn't feel right. Regulus said/thought and Marauder Era (though it doesn't have to be)
> 
> Thanks goes to IwasBOTWP for reading over it for me! :D

 

* * *

It was in the wee hours of the morning when Regulus Black Apparated into his ancestral home, exhausted, blood soaked, and his hair a tangled mess.

It had been a horrible idea, this bait and switch, but he knew it was something that had to be done. His  _Lord_ had to be stopped, and who else would be able to get that close to one of his secret sacred objects? The Light side had  _no idea_  about the horcruxes. No one did.  _He_ shouldn't even know about them, but he'd stumbled upon the information months ago and he knew, as gray as his moral compass was, he needed to do something about it.

In retrospect, going into a cave full of Inferi infested water wasn't exactly the best plan he'd ever come up with, but he had no other options.

Pain radiated through his abdomen and he stepped forward and he pressed a shaking hand to the hole in his side.

"Kreacher!" he yelled out, stumbling through the foyer and leaving bright red droplets on the hardwood floor beneath him as he moved.

The elf appeared in front of him in an instant. "Master Regulus is hurt," he observed, fussing with his clothes and searching his body for wounds.

Regulus's hand shot out to stop him. "Don't bother with that now, Kreacher. I have a much more important task I must give you."

_More like a burden_ , he thought as he looked at his loyal servant.

"What is it you want Kreacher to do? Kreacher lives to serve you, Master Regulus."

His hand slid toward his pocket but paused. Something didn't feel right. He couldn't discuss this here. It wasn't safe.

"Take me to my room." he commanded and Kreacher immediately complied.

When he was in the safety of his room, away from prying portrait eyes, he let out a relieved yet painful groan as he dropped to the floor.

"Master, let Kreacher treat your wounds."

"No. It's too late for that. I'm afraid I'm running out of time," he said sadly as he pulled a locket out of his pocket and shoved it into the house elf's wrinkled hands.

Seeing the locket caused the elf's eyes to widen. "Why does Master have this wretched cursed thing?"

Regulus knew what had happened to Kreacher, of course, he did, that's how he'd known how to get to the cave in the first place, but again he had no other options. The comfort of his house elf was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment.

"It's of little consequence. I need you to destroy it."

"Destroy it, Master?" he asked, giving Regulus an unreadable look.

"Yes, Kreacher. I command you to hide it and destroy it when I'm gone." He coughed hard, the bitter taste of iron coating his mouth. "It's important. The most important task I've ever given you. But I know you can do it." Another coughing fit wracked his body and he choked, his eyes watering and lungs begging for air.

This was the end of the line for him.

But at least he did his part to end the insanity.

He just hoped it was enough.

"Master." Kreacher was looking at him frantically, pulling the dying wizard's head into his tiny fragile lap as he coughed and moaned in pain. It was obvious that the elf was wanting to do everything he could to save him but was unable to go against his master's orders.

"It's ok, Kreacher," he whispered. "I knew there was no coming back from this. Just destroy the locket."

"Kreacher will do as Master has ordered." He replied, "Kreacher lives to serve the Noble House of Black."

He wanted to say something, anything to make sure the elf knew..."You've been a loyal servant," he began, but choked on his words as the last breath of air left him, "Thank you."

He was gone before the tears of the elf splashed onto his dirty face. "Kreacher will make you proud, Master Regulus."


	11. A Tumble in the Books

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This drabble is dedicated to Mamapotterhead2492 for winning one of the Drabble Challenges in Dramione Fanfiction Forum (18+) on FB.
> 
> POV: Hermione
> 
> Pairing: Dramione
> 
> Prompt: Malfoy library, half past midnight, a discarded dress shirt, see thru knickers, and "For the Love of Merlin, it's so... big."

 

* * *

Hermione hadn't been looking for trouble when she showed up to the Malfoy's Annual Charity Auction. She'd only agreed to make an appearance because her boss made some passive aggressive threats and she didn't want to deal with his shite come Monday. She had made a promise to herself that she'd stay twenty minutes; make sure she was seen by anyone that mattered and then hightail it out of there at the quickest opportunity.

That had been the plan, anyway.

Funny how things work.

Perhaps, it was the glass of champagne that caused her irresponsible tumble through the corridors of Malfoy Manor, or maybe it was her innate curiosity that compelled her to search the halls long after the clocks had chimed midnight. She was due for an adventure, and this was probably the closest thing she would get to one for awhile.

So she continued on, running her hands along antique furniture and staring at the paintings lining the walls. She'd walked for quite some time before she stopped in front of a door that stood out from the others. The large door had an intricate pattern carved into its surface and she just knew something wonderful had to be behind it, so she ignored that voice in her head that said it was a bad idea and pushed the door open.

Her eyes widened at the sight.

Books.

There were books everywhere. She'd never seen so many in one place. Even Hogwart's library paled in comparison to the one that stood before her. The Malfoy's sure put their money where their mouths were. This place..was gorgeous. The decor was warm and inviting and the shelves were widely spaced, allowing more movement between them and the whole room stretched further than her eyes could even see. "For the love of Merlin, it's so...big." She muttered in awe.

Somewhere in the darkened room, she heard a chuckle. "Only you would have such a reaction to a  _library_ , Granger."

She turned quickly to her right and saw the Malfoy heir sitting leisurely on a chaise, a book in one hand and a glass of what looked to be brandy in the other. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, seeing as how it's my bloody library, I think I should be the one asking you that."

Heat rose to her cheeks and she stuttered, "I-I was just...looking around."

He smirked at her and set the glass of alcohol down. "Lucky for me then."

She turned around, ready to flee and leave the library, and the man, behind. "Sorry, I'll just…"

"Ah ah, Granger," Malfoy called, quickly snatching her wrist. "No need to go running off into the night. Stay awhile."

Still mildly embarrassed, she faced him. "Why would you want me to stay awhile?"

Surely you looked at yourself in the mirror before you arrived?" he asked, eyes trailing down her body in appreciation. "You look quite fetching in that dress, Granger."

She rolled her eyes. He always did know how to tease her. "You must have had one too many brandies's."

He sighed, "You never did know how to take a compliment."

Hermione took a moment to really observe him. His eyes seemed clear enough and the look he was giving her was one of unrestrained hunger as his hands trailed up and down her bared arms. Her heart sped up and she felt the tell tale signs of arousal between her legs at the look he'd given her. "You're being serious?"

"You're a bit late to the game. I'm always serious," he told her, "And right now, I'm  _very_  serious about getting you out of that dress."

Perhaps it was the heat of his gaze or the way he said it, but something snapped inside her and she found herself pulling him into a passionate kiss. If he was thrown off by her forwardness he didn't show it, he only slid his hands to rest on her hips as he kissed her deeply. All she could think about was how hot he felt under her fingers, how he tasted of brandy, and how much she needed him to show her a good time.

So somewhere between him snogging her and her shoving him into the nearest bookshelf, he'd discarded his shirt and began divesting her of her dress, and as he dropped to his knees when that was accomplished she could only sigh inwardly in relief. Of all the nights to be wearing see through knickers, she was glad it was this one.


	12. Perfect Profile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gift drabble for Enigmaticrose4! Her prompt was Library, first meeting, "You're not at all what I expected." Muggle or Magical AU
> 
> Thanks goes to i was BOTWP for being my beta on this!
> 
> POV: Hermione
> 
> Pairing: Dramione

 

* * *

Hermione Granger was never late to an appointment, and that was why she sat alone at her favorite table in the corner of the library, staring at her phone while she waited for her "date" to arrive. She didn't mind waiting, after all, she was ten minutes early, but with every minute that passed her nerves just got worse.

She checked and double checked his messages to make sure she hadn't missed one, and obsessively read his profile and browsed through his pictures again. He just seemed too good to be true, this Draco Malfoy. He'd grown up in a town just a few miles away from hers, he liked the same books, which was a rare find, and had the same love for history. He was intelligent, handsome, and could keep up with her when she went on tangents. She even liked the confident, if not a bit cocky, attitude he displayed during late night chat sessions. And God he looked good in a suit. She could just imagine herself undoing that tie around his neck before leaving a trail of love bites there.

Ginny  _had_ warned her about "cat fishing", but after a year of horrible dates and unsatisfying sex, she was desperate for someone to click. She figured she had nothing to lose and finally gave online dating a go. She didn't even care if he wasn't as perfect as he seemed to be. He was obviously witty because that was something no one could fake, so she was willing to give him a chance, even if he  _didn't_ look exactly like his picture.

Crossing her legs, she sighed. She'd put her all into this date, even wearing a matching bra and knickers, so she  _would_ be highly disappointed if he turned out to be a balding fifty-something with a pot belly. She wouldn't go so far as to say she was shallow, but there  _was_ a limit.

She was so busy staring at her phone and worrying over the possibilities of being duped that she hadn't noticed she was no longer alone until someone cleared their throat.

Startled, she let her phone drop onto the table.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to sneak up on you," an almost dreamy baritone said as she scrambled to stand up to greet him.

"No, no. I'm sorry. I was just zoned-" She began, pulling at the hem of her skirt as her eyes traveled upward to land on his face. All the words she was going to say stuck to her tongue and all she could do was stare.

She needn't worry about being disappointed. He was beautiful.

"It's fine. I'm just glad I snuck up on the right woman," he flashed a dazzling white smile, "you  _are_ Hermione Granger right?"

"Yes," she said quickly. "I'm- yes I'm her."

He nodded his head and extended his hand to her. "Draco Malfoy. It's nice to meet you."

She finally snapped out of whatever spell he'd put her under and took his hand. "It's a pleasure."

"I'd say the pleasure is all mine," he replied, his voice soft - a hint of mischief in his eyes.

This man.

Oh, this man.

He knew what he was doing.

"You certainly know what to say, don't you Mr. Malfoy?"

"I  _have_ been told I make a good first impression."

She smiled. "That you do."

He offered her his arm. "Ready to go to dinner? I made reservations at a lovely little place down the street."

Her eyes lit up. "Belavitas?"

"Of course," he replied, "only the finest for you."

She grabbed her phone and shoved it into her purse. "Then lead the way."

It was a quick walk to the Italian restaurant. As the hostess walked away from seating them, they simultaneously put their phones on silent. It was reassuring to know neither wanted outside distractions. They exchanged the normal first date spiel but the more they talked, the more she noticed his gaze moving up and down her body, a smile ever present as he did so.

After a few more minutes of back and forth, she'd finally had enough. She just had to know.."Why are you looking at me like that?"

"No reason, really." he shrugged, "You're just not at all what I expected."

She frowned. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"A good thing, I assure you," he replied with a smirk. "Your pictures  _don't_ do you justice, Ms. Granger."

Heat rose in her cheeks and she fought the urge to look away from him. "Thank you. I'm...I'm not used to such compliments."

"If a compliment is all it takes to make you blush like that, I'll compliment you all night, love."

Images of him doing  _everything_ in his power to make her blush flooded her mind and the tell tale signs of lust stirred between her legs.

"If you compliment me anymore, Mr. Malfoy, you may find yourself skipping dinner and going straight to dessert."

The look he gave her had her heart thumping quickly in her chest. His eyes were dark with want and full of promises.

Now, more than ever, she was glad she clicked on his picture.

Just like his profile, he was perfect.


	13. A Death Eater's Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabble gift for Megan Showers, the Rabastan Drabble Challenge Winner in TSC Facebook group.
> 
> Prompt: Rabastan Lestrange + Hermione Granger -Baby clothes -Eavesdropping -"This isn't exactly how I pictured you finding out."

 

* * *

Despite what the wizarding world and the rest of his comrades thought, Rabastan Lestrange  _wasn't_ the perfect Death Eater. He killed, he maimed, he showed up to every meeting, and did whatever his Dark Lord asked of him, but there was something that kept him from being the perfect soldier.

He had a secret.

And that secret was holed up in his family's abandoned ancestral home, painting the walls and rearranging furniture.

At first he was nervous. He was so sure he'd be found out, but the weeks bled into months and now he was living a secret life with a witch his pureblood family would be rolling in their graves over.

He waited until his brother and Bellatrix were asleep before venturing out to see his little bride.

"Darling?" A feminine voice called out, "is that you?"

"Who else would it be, love?" He asked, opening the door and smiling brightly at her as he gave her a peck on the cheek.

"I don't know. I thought maybe you had finally invited your family," she replied, turning back to the task he'd interrupted.

"They aren't ready to hear the wonderful news."

"I'm already seven months on, Rabastan. How much longer will you wait?"

"As long as I have to," he replied.

She huffed in annoyance and rubbed her stomach. She was getting more and more agitated as the days wore on. Being in the manor all alone was really getting to her, but this was the only way it could be. If anyone knew she was here….

He watched her caress her expanding abdomen. It always caught him off guard when she looked like this, radiant and round with his child. "May I?" He asked her, stretching his hand toward her stomach.

She nodded and he placed his hand on the bump, a warmth rushing through him as he felt the tiny kicks against his palm. "Is he always this active?"

"More so at night, the little bugger. Has their nights and days mixed up I think."

"Well, hopefully he'll get it right once he's are born." A noise from outside the door caught his attention and he stopped rubbing her stomach to stare into the darkened hallway. "I'm sorry, love." He said quietly, "I have to go."

"But you just got here," she pouted.

"I know," he kissed her forehead and hugged her to him, "I promise I'll come back later tonight ok?"

"Bring me something sweet?"

"Of course," he replied with a fake smile and left her alone in the room.

Closing the door behind him, he let out a frustrated sigh. "Eavesdropping isn't normally your style of information gathering, Rodolphus," he called to the shadow down the hall.

"Yes, well, I was curious as to why my dear brother kept sneaking off at all hours of the night."

Rabastan rolled his eyes. "I wasn't aware I had a curfew."

Ignoring that he had even spoke, his brother continued, "I admit, having a secret rendezvous with a mudblood was the last thing I imagined I'd find when I caught up with you."

"This isn't exactly how I pictured you finding out, either."

"How did you even manage to subdue her? That's  _Hermione Granger_  if I'm not mistaken? She's been missing for months. How long has she been here?"

"Since the very beginning," he smirked, "snatched her right out from under The Order's nose."

A dark brow rose. "And she came willingly?"

"Of course not, she kicked and screamed the whole way."

"Then-" he looked to the door where a happy Hermione Granger sat folding baby clothes.

"Obliviate is quite an amazing spell when you know how to use it." He grinned, "Don't you think?"

His secret may be out, but for the first time in his life, his older brother gave him a look of complete approval, and that more than made up for it.


End file.
